


Ending One: Betrayal

by amerasu1013 (amerasu_1013)



Series: Forks in the Road [2]
Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Non Consensual, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerasu_1013/pseuds/amerasu1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal's drinking gets out of control. Something's up with the boss, makes him act that way, and Face is determined to fix it. But Face is the last person that Hannibal would want to try and help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ending One: Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> Ending 1 a.k.a. the horrible bad ending a.k.a. this is what happens when I try to write a happy ending.  
> Please heed these warnings: (non-explicit) non-con, violence, major character death.

_6 months later_

 

The drinking becomes a problem. First Face and the others didn’t think much about it, Hannibal always had a fondness for the strong stuff, but lately… A mission goes wrong, then another. For the next one Face and the others have to come up with a plan on their own, because Hannibal was too drunk to think. They sat him down and talked. Hannibal was annoyed but seemed to listen, seemed to agree.

Later they found out he just got better at hiding.

And now he’s standing here, in a dirty motel room, Hannibal unconscious on the bed. He hasn’t shaved in days, not since he disappeared, his eyes have dark bags underneath them and his clothes are stained with God knows what. Bottles everywhere. Three days of drinking, Jesus Christ.

Face surveys the room with distaste. It’s filthy, and that smell… He uses his foot to nudge a few bottles out of the way and walks closer to the bed, staring down at his friend. Fuck, Hannibal, what are you doing?

Hannibal seems to hear him and stirs. He opens blood-shot eyes and groans when he sees Face. He needs several attempts to push himself up against the headboard, Face watches with crossed arms and doesn’t help. Hannibal holds his head and winces; Face is very un-sympathetic.

The room is quiet for long minutes. Face clenches his teeth and watches Hannibal, fists balled. Hannibal is breathing deliberately slow and steady and presses tired fingers to his temples. He’s the first to break.

“What do you want, Face? Give me another lecture?” He sounds weary, bitter, and so tired. Face almost feels sorry for him, but then Hannibal picks up another bottle and empties it in three long gulps. And now he’s only pissed.

“What the fuck are you doing, Hannibal? Disappearing like that, without a word?! BA and Murdock are worried sick about you! And you, you’re here, drunk off your ass, asking me what I want?!”

Hannibal chuckles darkly and reaches for a new bottle. Face yanks it out of his hands and throws it against the wall. Hannibal flinches a little when the glass shards rain down on him, but doesn’t say anything. Just picks up another bottle…

And Face’s shoulders slump. He sags down onto the bed and doesn’t look at Hannibal while the other twists the cap off and drinks.

“What happened to you, boss? Hm? What happened? Look at you, Hannibal! Why won’t you let us help you?!”

Hannibal laughs bitterly and lets his head thump against the headboard. “You can’t help me. Nobody can… least of all you, Face.”

“Why?” Face dares to slide closer, grasps one big hand and covers it with his own. “Why can’t I help you? What happened, Hannibal? Tell me, please! I…”

Hannibal shudders and clutches his hand for a moment before he jerks it from Face’s grasp. His breath goes heavy and his eyes are squeezed shut, lips white and pressed tightly together. “Don’t do this, Face, don’t… don’t ask me, kid. Please. Just… just leave me be.”

Face ignores his plea and inches closer. He tries to grab that hand again, Hannibal evades him. “Hannibal, please. John. I want to help, tell me what I can do. Is it me? Did I do something?”

Hannibal laughs bitterly and Face’s throat clenches. God, what is wrong with him?!

Face touches his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, Hannibal flinches and presses back against the wall. Face bites his lips when he feels the other shiver beneath his hands, but isn’t deterred. “Tell me what’s wrong! Tell me, John!”

A moment later Face flies through the air and hits the opposite wall. Hard.

“Don’t touch me!”

Face blinks away the stars that are dancing in front of his eyes and picks himself up from the floor. Hannibal’s standing beside the bed now, fists clenched at his sides, eyes flashing in fury. Oh, so he’s angry? Well, that makes two.

“What the fuck, Hannibal?!” he yells and stalks closer. “What was that for?! I just want to help you, goddammit, what the fuck?!”

“You want to help me, kid? Then get the fuck out before I break your neck! Leave me alone, for God’s sake! D’you hear me? I don’t want you here, I want you out, GO!”

“Forget it, you fucking bastard, I’m not going anywhere! Not before you tell me what the fuck happened to you! You need help, John! Look at you, Hannibal! Look around! Do you think this is healthy? This is normal? And I’m not leaving until tell me what’s wrong and _let me help you_!”

Face stops yelling and glares at Hannibal, just daring the other to protest. He knows he’s right, dammit, he knows he is, Hannibal needs help, and he will make him admit that. The other is staring at the floor. The big hands clench and unclench slowly, Hannibal’s breath heaves, his whole body is vibrating with barely controlled fury. Face feels his heart beat in his throat but refuses to back down. Hannibal can be angry all he wants, Face doesn’t care. This will end here.

Then Hannibal lifts his head and looks at him. His face is blank. The kind of blank it only gets when Hannibal’s furious. And his eyes are dark, so dark, empty. “You want to help me, kid? You? Of all people…”

Hannibal smiles. It’s not a nice smile, it’s bitter and dark and ugly. Face swallows hard. “You can’t help me, kid. It’s far too late for that. Too late for both of us.”

And Hannibal stalks closer, advances quickly, predatorily, Face stumbles back and brings his hands up to defend himself. Hannibal’s face isn’t blank anymore, it’s sad and resigned, but his eyes burn, so dark, and Face doesn’t even get one punch in before Hannibal is on him.

 

\------

 

It’s BA who finds him later. Who unties his hands, covers him with a blanket and carries him to the car. Who doesn’t let go of him the whole drive, carries him inside the house, big hands gentle while Face clutches the blanket and stares at nothing. BA puts him in the shower, carefully washes blood and semen from his skin. Tucks him into bed, curls up behind him, Murdock hovering anxiously until BA tugs him down to lie against Face’s front. His friends surround him, stroke his arms and his hair and his face, murmur softly, and he starts crying.

He doesn’t stop crying for a long time.

Two days later every newspaper has the same headline. The infamous Hannibal Smith turned himself in. One week later Hannibal’s in prison.

Two weeks after that they hear he’s been killed. They turn off the television and look at each other. A knife to the heart while he was sleeping. Not a fight, no, murdered in his sleep. They look at each other, calculating. Wondering which one of them did it, who paid the killer.

Face can’t bring himself to care.

 

 

The end of Ending One...


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